


Perspectives

by Styfas



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Gen, Swearing, multiple character monologues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styfas/pseuds/Styfas
Summary: In seven monologues, we get some behind-the-scenes looks at how Arthur ended up onLive With Murray Franklinand on what happened at the show.   We learn how seven characters' lives are changed as a result. Well, eight, actually.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	Perspectives

**Author's Note:**

> I consider some of these to be "adapted" scenes, or even "missing" scenes; I've tagged as "behind the scenes," which is probably the best option, anyway. 
> 
> Arthur/Joker does not have a featured monologue in this set of perspectives - because, for one thing, I wouldn't presume to do First Person Arthur/Joker! - but his behind-the-scenes actions and conversations with these characters are mentioned. Arthur is definitely a character in these perspectives. Joker, too!

**Comedy Gold**

I’d videotaped a lot of acts over the years at Pogo’s, but when Arthur Fleck took the stage, I knew I had comedy gold. Not because of his jokes – which were horrible, at best – but because of how he started out his act. At first, I wondered if he was trying some sort of performance persona. You know, like Andy Kaufman does. But the big difference is that Andy Kaufman is funny. 

Arthur just started out by laughing. Then he said a few words and started laughing again. Turned his back on the audience and doubled over, and then turned around and tried to speak again. People were laughing, all right, but they weren’t laughing with him. They were laughing _at_ him. 

He finally got around to telling some jokes. The first one bombed. Then he opened up the joke book he had brought with him. Really? He couldn’t even organize and memorize his own material? And boy, all of his jokes were bad. Every single one. Even good comic timing couldn’t have saved them – and if there was one thing Arthur Fleck definitely didn’t have, it was comic timing. Another thing he didn’t have was a connection with the audience. He was awkward as Hell.

When the night was over, I took the video cassette home and stuck it in a manila envelope. Next morning, I took the subway to the _Live With Murray Franklin_ theater and asked to speak with The Man himself. I told them what I had in the envelope, and that I thought Mr. Franklin might be interested in seeing it. They sent me right to him.

There I was, in Mr. Franklin’s office. I explained my position. He seemed interested in what I was proposing, but said he had to see the tape first before passing final judgment. If he didn’t like what he saw, he’d give the tape back to me, reimburse me for my roundtrip subway fare and I’d be on my way. He invited me to sit down. He popped the cassette into his VCR/TV setup, and together we watched the entire act. 

Mr. Franklin was entertained, as I thought he would be. He nodded his head, laughed, and rubbed his palms together as he watched. When Arthur was finished, Mr. Franklin grabbed his remote, ejected the cassette, and turned off the VCR. 

Next thing I knew, he was reaching into his wallet. He pulled out three bills, fanned them out, and placed them on the desk in front of me. “Will that do it?” he asked.

Three one-hundred-dollar bills? Hell yeah, that would do it. “Yes, sir!”

“Good.” He came around to my side of the desk and patted me on the back. “Thanks, Pal,” he said. “Be sure to watch the show on Monday. We’ll air it during my opening monologue, and we’ll credit you for the tape. I’ll have my people contact you when we’re finished with it.”

I stood. “Thanks, Mr. Franklin.”

“Call me Murray.” He reached into his wallet again and handed me a ten. “For the subway, and a little extra,” he said.

“Thanks, Murray.”

He ushered me out the door with a final handshake. I practically danced to the subway station. It was the easiest three hundred dollars I’d ever made in my life. The icing on the cake was that Murray Franklin liked my idea.

I couldn’t wait to see him make fun of Arthur Fleck on Monday’s show. 

**I Didn’t Want to Book Him**

When Murray Franklin gets an idea in his head, it’s next to impossible to make him change his mind. If you don’t believe me, just ask Gene. He’ll tell you the same.

It was a total surprise to me. I didn’t know that Murray was going to air that clip of that poor guy at Pogo’s. It was painful to watch. I could tell that something wasn’t right with that guy, and I was embarrassed for him. But what did Murray do? He made fun of him. What he did was cruel – and I told him so. “Relax, Shirley,” he said. “I did the guy a favor.”

Several days passed, and wouldn’t you know, the phone calls and letters were coming in. The viewers loved that clip. Or so Murray told me. He insisted that I should contact Arthur Fleck and tell him that Murray Franklin himself wanted him to be on the show. I tried to talk him out of it. He had already crushed the guy once, was it really necessary to bring him on the show to do it all over again? “The viewers are demanding it,” he told me. “We’re doing it for them.”

For the Nielsen ratings too, I had no doubt.

I didn’t want to book him. I knew Murray would embarrass him on national television – and I wanted no part of that. So, I didn’t call him. Murray asked me three mornings in a row if I had contacted Arthur, and I lied each time. I said that I had tried, but all I got was an answering machine. I assured Murray that I left a message each time, but Arthur hadn’t returned any of the calls. I thought that would be the end of it. 

But Murray was persistent. He came to my office on that third afternoon, sat down in front of my desk, and demanded that I call Arthur again. I said I was busy, had other guests to book, and that I’d get around to it as soon as I could. “It’s okay, I’ll wait,” he said. He put his feet up on my desk, crossed his legs at his ankles, and leaned back in the chair with his hands clasped behind his head. 

There wasn’t much I could do at that point. I tried not to show my reluctance as I opened my side desk drawer to get the notepad where I had written down Arthur’s phone number. For a few seconds I thought about dialing a different number at random and talking over the phone that would be ringing on the other side. But with Murray staring at me, and with my luck, it would go wrong. Someone might pick up, and I’d have to admit that I’d dialed the wrong number. Then I’d end up having to call Arthur anyway. 

I had no choice, really. I punched in Arthur’s number. After a few rings, an answering machine greeting came up. “It’s the answering machine again,” I said quickly. “Look, since he hasn’t returned the first three calls – “ I lowered the receiver to hang up.

“Leave a message,” he said. “Do it.”

I brought the receiver back up to my ear, waited for the beep and started to leave a message. I had to put more smile in my voice than usual, considering Murray was watching. I introduced myself, mentioned that Murray had played a clip of his standup recently, and –

When Arthur picked up, I felt horrible. But, with any luck, maybe he had seen the clip and would refuse to come on, even at Murray’s invitation. In my cheeriest phone voice, I explained that there were some amazing audience responses to the clip of his standup that Murray had aired. When I was through with my spiel, I asked if it sounded good to him to come on the show. He didn’t seem giddy or excited. Rather, he was quite subdued in his responses, and he seemed more dumbfounded than surprised, which made me think that maybe he _hadn’t_ seen the show the other night. That would be even worse, I thought, because this poor guy wouldn’t have any idea of what he was getting himself into. To my disappointment, Arthur agreed to come on the show, and we set up a date. After all the particulars were settled, I hung up and shot a hard gaze at Murray, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “There,” I said. “Are you happy now? Are you happy that you’re going to bring this guy on the show just to make a fool out of him?”

Murray waved his hand in dismissal. “Shirley, you worry too much,” he said. “He’ll be fine. It’s all in good fun. And who knows, he may end up surprising us all.” He got up and left the room.

On the day of Arthur Fleck’s scheduled appearance, I called in sick. I wasn’t sick, of course – but I didn’t want to meet him face-to-face and continue with the charade. I couldn’t do it. In fact, I was seriously thinking of resigning over the whole situation, but I decided I would start with a sick day first and see how I felt about it later.

I watched the show that night. Damned if Murray didn’t air that video clip _again_. If Arthur hadn’t seen the clip the first time, he certainly saw it then.

I wanted to change the channel – but when “Joker” came on the stage, I couldn’t look away. The last thing I expected was that this sweet, mild-mannered guy would come onto the stage as a confident clown. And then go back to being mild-mannered. And back and forth, and back and forth, and – well, as I said, I couldn’t look away. 

Until I did. After he shot Murray in the head.

I should’ve stood up for myself. What happened that night was all my fault – because I booked Arthur for the show. 

I resigned the following morning.

**Murray Should Have Listened to Me**

I told him. I tried to warn him, right there in front of Arthur Fleck. I needed to let Murray know that he doesn’t always get to call the shots. That’s supposed to be _my_ job. 

And I wasn’t going to let some amateur excuse for a comedian try to run things, either. 

First of all, a guest should show some respect to the host. You don’t just call him Murray right out of the gate. Second, the writing on the dressing room mirror: _Put on a happy face_. What made Arthur think he had the right to mess up our mirror like that? The arrogance! Third, he had decided on his own, without talking to us first, that he was going to wear clown makeup on the show. And then, the dimwit had the audacity to suggest that Murray should introduce him as “Joker.” 

As usual, Murray blew off my comments and made me look like a jackass. Being called Murray was fine with him. Arthur wearing clown makeup was fine. Even though I cautioned him that we shouldn’t bring Arthur on for a full segment, Murray said it would work. As for the “Joker” thing, Murray caved on that, too. 

And, of course he was still going to go ahead and humiliate the guy on national TV. That wasn’t going to change – because it was all his idea in the first place. Never mind what I had to say about it. 

The show was going great that night until Arthur – oh, excuse me, _"Joker"_ – showed up. He came out on stage doing some crazy dance, and then he planted one on Dr. Sally. The audience loved it, but I’m not so sure Dr. Sally did.

It got worse from there. A flamboyant, giggly guy, totally out of his element, from what I could tell. A lousy knock-knock joke about a drunk driver killing some woman’s son. Then, it got serious. Arthur said that he had killed the three Wall Street guys. What kind of sick joke was that? When he said it wasn’t a joke, I never made a “cut” sign so quick in my life as I did then.

Murray saw the cut sign. I know he did. He looked right at me. 

And he ignored it.

Because Murray always knew what was best. In _his_ mind, anyway. 

So, he grilled this guy, probably thinking he was going to be the next Walter Cronkite. He asked questions, and he let Arthur go on and on, until things got pretty heated. Meanwhile, I’m off to the side, thinking about how I could signal the camera guys to shut down and go to commercial, or test pattern, or _anything_. 

Even with what happened a few minutes later, I can’t lie. I liked it when Arthur called Murray out on inviting him to be on the show only to make fun of him, because I advised Murray the same day not to go through with it. Turns out Arthur wasn’t as much of a dimwit as I thought. 

Murray pushed back at Arthur with his usual ego, and then finally decided that I was going to be worth something to him. He told me to call the police. 

Too late. Arthur totally lost it, pulled out a gun, and blew a hole right through Murray’s head.

Now I’m stuck with finding a new host for the show. I wonder if that kid Jay Leno is available? He’d be good. Young, but trainable.

I bet I could train _him_ to trust his producer. 

**Moment of Glory**

_Ba dum sssss!_

I was so sick and tired of hearing that, and sick of that hayseed drummer getting all the glory. Every freaking night he got to do at least one rim shot. Murray would have a guest in the hot seat, and the guest would say something that the drummer thought was funny – and then: _Ba dum sssss!_ I wasn’t the only guy who was getting tired of it, but I was the only one who didn’t care if anyone saw me rolling my eyes when he did it. 

Look, it’s not like I hate the guy. He’s talented, I’ll give him that. And he always played that lick at the end of Murray’s theme music like nobody’s business. But I’d been playing the trombone in Ellis Drane’s Jazz Orchestra for years, and I worked hard to get in. And then this guy from Nowhere, Arkansas comes to Gotham and instantly gets the gig as the new drummer. He was cocky about those rim shots, too. Would rub it in our noses that we all didn’t have the “artistic freedom” he had. Gimme a break. 

The rest of us had to go by the book every night. We’d play Murray’s theme music at the beginning of every show and before the first commercial, and then we’d play “That’s Life” to close it. We’d perform during station breaks, and sometimes we’d do a featured number on air. But it was always Ellis, or the sax player, or the pianist, who would get a featured solo. Never me.

Well, I finally had my moment of glory. 

It came when that weird Joker guy was on the show. He told a really sick joke, and I jumped on the opportunity. I played the classic trombone _Waaaa Waaaa_ , and I added a wide vibrato for comic effect. Perfectly timed, and the perfect sound for the situation.

And the best part of all was that the Arkansas hayseed couldn’t do a thing about it. 

_Waaaa waaaa!_

**Keep ‘Em Laughing**

Sure, we have flashing applause signs at the Live With Murray Franklin show. But I help with the laughter. I trained as a voice-over artist, and I’m the announcer for the show, but Murray once told me to my face that he hired me primarily because of my laugh. That’s my job – and I do it well.

Murray tells a joke, and I laugh. Murray laughs at something a guest says on the show, and I laugh. A guest says something funny, and I laugh. The drummer does a rim shot, and I laugh. Sometimes I’ll laugh on my own, unprompted, which makes the audience laugh.

In a nutshell: Whenever I laugh, the audience ends up laughing, and everybody’s happy. It’s good for Murray, good for the show, and good for ratings. 

I saw that clip of Arthur at Pogo’s that Murray had aired the previous week. It made me cringe on the inside – but I laughed on the outside, right along with Murray. 

But there wasn’t much to laugh about when Arthur came on stage a week and a half later. 

Murray told me the guy wanted to be introduced as “Joker,” so I was ready for that much. What I wasn’t ready for was the clown makeup and the dancing. I wasn’t ready for him to kiss Dr. Sally, and I wasn’t ready for the so-called “joke” that he told about a woman’s son being killed by a drunk driver.

And no one was ready for him to shoot Murray in the head on live TV.

Now that Murray’s gone, it’s time for me to get a new gig. For months I’d been thinking of moving on, and it turns out this thing that happened is the kick in the ass I need to finally do it. 

Since I seem to have become a professional laugher, I’m thinking I could get paid to be a planted audience member at Pogo’s, or at some other comedy club. Laugh, and make the comedians – both the good ones and the bad ones – feel successful. There are plenty of sitcoms that are taped in front of a live studio audiences. I could lend my distinctive laugh to the audience of _Happy Days_ or _One Day at a Time,_ for instance.Come Christmas season, I’ll look into being a department store Santa Claus. 

One thing I know for sure is that I need a break from being in front of a camera in front of millions of viewers. It’s been too much pressure over the years. When the camera is on you, it’s not enough to just make the sound of laughter. You have to look sincere while you’re doing it – and sometimes that takes some real acting. I’ll be glad to finally get away from this type of thing. 

I never thought Murray’s jokes were funny, anyway. 

**No Gentleman**

When a lady offers her hand, a gentleman has two options: He either politely shakes her hand, or he gently takes her hand and leans down to kiss the back of it. 

Mr. Joker was no gentleman.

He put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me right on the lips. Many times, and with a kiss in side-to-side motion to finish. 

He was a good kisser – but all the same, I was stunned by his lack of social etiquette. Mr. O’Donnell had to help me to sit down after that. He was a lovely man, that Mr. O’Donnell, to be looking out for me. He was a true gentleman.

Mr. Joker sat down and acted like it had never happened. And he never looked directly at me again, not even when I scolded him for telling that horrible joke about a drunk driver killing a woman’s son. He was strange, that man.

My feeling, after he kissed me, was that this man might not be able to relate to a woman on a personal level. Was everything a joke to him? I had my doubts that he could keep a woman satisfied with that approach. Play is important in a sexual relationship, but sincerity even more so.

When he opened his book of jokes, I noticed he had glued color pictures of naked ladies on the pages. It is not appropriate to keep such pictures in a book that you carry around in public. I also saw drawings of a sexual nature, which suggested that he had certain types of fantasies. I had to wonder if he had ever fulfilled them. But again, a gentleman should not carry such things around with him for everyone to see. Keep your fantasy drawings to yourself! But do show them to your lover, if you like, and act them out in the bedroom, in a consensual way. Have fun! 

As to his makeup, I wondered if he might indulge in role play in the bedroom. A bit of “clowning around,” perhaps? I wouldn’t be surprised. Lucky the lady who could indulge in that fantasy.

Because Mr. Joker never looked at me again, I was able to study his face under all that makeup, up close, and on TV monitors. I saw a very handsome man. His entrance to the stage also told me plenty. He had a slender physique, and he was a good dancer. Which would make it likely that he would be good in bed. Flexible… 

Lack of social etiquette, insincere attitude, and poor jokes aside, I have to say that I found him extremely attractive. He had an odd, yet appealing, charisma. He entered the stage as the confident grown man, then became the shy little boy who wanted to please others.

How might these qualities manifest in the bedroom, I began to wonder. I found myself intrigued and – dare I say it? – aroused. I’m sure many who saw the show that night would have thought the frown on my face was due to Mr. Joker’s generally bizarre behavior. They would be wrong. I felt extremely uncomfortable. Imagine: a woman of my age, sitting on a couch on a nationally televised talk show, having sexual thoughts about this physically attractive, multi-faceted man who was dressed as a clown, and who was at least twenty-five years my junior!

I had already decided that I would stop by Mr. Joker’s dressing room immediately after the show to offer him some free therapy. Of the sexual kind. As a Doctor, of course. 

Then came his confession that he had killed those men on the subway. Now he was the man-child who said nothing could hurt him anymore. But soon after that, he showed his fiery side. He was full of anger and passion – and his words made sense. Lord help me, I was now attracted to a murderer! Again, I couldn’t help but think about him in a bedroom situation. First, a self-pitying man-child – and then, a determined and domineering tiger. 

He killed again minutes later. He shot Murray Franklin in the head. That action effectively killed my chances of my meeting Mr. Joker after the show, as the police were already on their way. 

Mr. O’Donnell immediately pulled me close and protected me in the aftermath. I was impressed, as most everyone else had run off, including Gene, the producer of the show. Mr. O’Donnell made me feel safe among all the mayhem. 

I went home with Barry O’Donnell that night and had the best sex of my life. But not because of him.

I was fantasizing about Mr. Joker.

**I Should Have Listened to Gene**

The minute we opened that dressing room door, I had a feeling that things could get weird.

The kid had clown makeup on. Who does that for a talk show? 

Arthur got up out of his chair, all starstruck. I’d seen it so many times before, but with him, it was different. He seemed so sweet that I was starting to have second thoughts about the plan to make fun of him in front of everyone. That was all Gene’s idea, to be honest. 

I had to ask him about the face. I figured he was part of the clown protests, but he said he wasn’t. He said it would be good for his act.

Gene blew up and said with the kid looking like that, we could use him for a bit, but not for a whole segment. But the wheels were turning in my head. I figured that these days, a young comedian – even a bad one, like Arthur Fleck – needed to have a gimmick. If Arthur wanted that clown face to be his gimmick, then I was fine with it. I told Gene it was going to work. 

Then Arthur asked me to introduce him as Joker. Again, Gene was a tight ass. He asked him what was wrong with using his real name. Arthur told me I called him a Joker when I aired his clip. Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Gene didn’t remember.

I thought about comedians like Andy Kaufman, who performed with a foreign man persona, and Paul Rubens, who performed as Pee Wee Herman. So, Joker? Why not? Might as well indulge the kid. I figured I’d give him a shot.

A shot. Poor choice of words.

I should have listened to Gene. He’s a producer for a reason. But it was my show, and I usually had the final say on what happened. Like when Arthur blew the segment wide open by saying he killed those young men on the subway, and that it wasn’t a joke.

I saw Gene giving me the “cut” sign, his hand going back and forth horizontally in front of his neck. But no, I had to seize the moment and run with It. This was Something Big – and it was going to be _all mine_. I was going to have my Barbara Walters moment, and get the whole story out of him. Maybe even get an Emmy for it. Hell, a Pulitzer Prize!

I asked probing questions. I listened to what he had to say – until I couldn’t stand to listen to him anymore. The kid had the nerve to tell me I was awful for inviting him on the show. Then he pissed me off with his laughing. And no way I was going to let him try to tell another one of his sick jokes. Emmy or no, Pulitzer Prize or no, I wanted him off my stage.

The last thing I remember before everything went black was Arthur yelling at me. Something about getting what I “fucking deserve.” 

Now, as I look down – that’s right, I made it up here – I see that Arthur’s been locked up, and Gotham is burning. And all I can think of is that horrible punchline from one his jokes that we had aired: “Well, no one’s laughing now.”

Or maybe it’s not such a horrible punchline after all – because Comedy is subjective.

Isn’t that what they say?

**  
**  
**  
**


End file.
